This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

It was on a lake. A beautiful lake in a northeastern state. Deep in some places, shallow and rocky in others. No one knew how it came to be. Some scientists said it was created by retreating glaciers at the end of the Ice Age. Others said it was created by underground springs and erosion combining to fill the ends of the valley and then subsequent flooding. Others said God created the valleys, the mountains, and the lakes. The lake ran north to south, about nine miles long and no more than two miles wide. The water was cold and usually calm. It was often covered by ice eight or nine months each year. There is a small town at the southern end and cabins were spread along each shore. Depending on your perspective, the cabins are close or far apart. If you judge distance from the line of the crow, each may be only a few hundred yards apart but by road this distance may change to a mile or two. And if travelling by boat the distance may be a bit less or even more. So while you have neighbors, each cabin can be a place solitude, privacy, or celebration with others.

One of these cabins is the heart of our story. A cabin that dated from the early 1800’s. Originally built by a person unknown, it was no more than a one room log shack with a sleeping loft. In the 1820’s the cabin and the surrounding land were purchased by Bart’s great-great-grandfather, Bartholomew, a bachelor from a nearby large city. He used it only for fishing in the summer, hunting in the autumn, and an occasional visit at other times of the year. After his marriage, visits to the cabin became fewer although he tried to bring his son, Bradford, at least once each year.

Bradford inherited the cabin around 1870 and made a few improvements hoping to make it move comfortable for his future family.  While visits were not often, it became a place to call their second home. A kitchen and bedroom had been added and a well installed along with a shed to store a small sleigh and a rowboat. Bradford married a local girl around 1880. Their son, Barkley, loved the cabin. He swore that he would one day call it his home and would never leave the cabin by the lake.

True to his word, Barkley found work in a small town growing at the southern shore of the lake. After a few years, he was able to purchase a small general store and later became postmaster for the town and the cabins around the lake. This wasn’t that difficult thing since the town still had few residents and most of the cabins were occupied only a few days each year. But not Barkley’s cabin which became the family home. But like the small town, the cabin expanded. Electric service was added along with indoor plumbing, something seen in only a few local homes and cabins. With each new child, a room was added. The two oldest children were very attractive young girls. While they loved their family and the cabin by the lake, they would marry young men and someday move away.

But the third child, Benjamin, much like his father, loved the cabin and its place by the lake. It suited quite well his ambitions as a writer and photographer. He wrote books about life growing up by the lake and took great photos of families and friends. As his work expanded, he incorporated both into books about the local scenery with pictures and more. He became very successful but still helped with his father’ store. A marriage came early, and his family grew with three strong sons and daughters two. But times had changed, and the cabin grew old. It no longer met the family needs. So, with some regret Ben decided that a new cabin was needed where his family could live. But the location would not change. This was the new family home. Logs were retained and often reused, and a new home arose where the old home had been. It was a great change from the original cabin, but the old shack remained, attached as a room in back. Most of the children are now grown and gone. But young Bart, named for his great-great-grandfather, remains in the home. Like his ancestors before him he has pledged to make the cabin, much as it has changed, a home for his family from this day on.

Future posts will look at life at the cabin and what it means to family and friends.